Cleaning the car leads to reflections

Here I am again, about to begin the archaeological dig which, in other households, is known as cleaning the car.

 

The process begins with moments of deep reflection. My inner adult looks disappointedly at my inner child and wags her finger as if to say, “I told you this would happen.” My inner child lowers her head and mutters toward her feet, “You told me, but I didn’t listen. I’ll try to do better next time.”

 

At which my inner adult tousles the child’s hair, smiles gently, and says, “That’s right. Use this as a learning experience so this doesn’t keep happening.” 

 

But she knows better than to believe it.

 

Self-recrimination over, I steel myself for the task.

 

As I assemble my tools, I soothe myself with a few excuses. I couldn’t have cleaned the car the last two days, after all–-that hot wind was unbearable and would have blown things all over the place. The days before that, of course, I had too much work to do for the newspaper–deadlines have that name for a reason, after all.  Obviously there was no opportunity on the rainy days that came before that…

 

As I open the nearest door of the car, I am reminded more of a storeroom than a vehicle. As I begin sorting things, I have to admit this makes sense.

 

I drive an SUV for a number of reasons. The first is that I am a tall person who is part of a family of tall people. Extra space for heads, knees and feet make my vehicle the first choice for outings–not because of the number of seats, but for the space between them.

 

Those outings, large and small, account for some of the snacks and beverages I see–some of them unopened, others only empty containers.

 

A second aspect that contributes to the warehouse effect is my flexible schedule. Not only do I have a large vehicle, it’s relatively easy to find a time when it’s available. What grandmother can resist transporting her granddaughter’s large “double bass” orchestral instrument when it means she gets to transport the granddaughter, too?

 

I drive a rather astounding number of miles each month for an astonishing array of reasons–so this office-weight foldable dolly for moving my computer and materials through long hallways makes all the sense in the world…

 

As for the stack of blankets? Yes, there are probably more of them than there need to be. But in this yo-yo year, who knows when the weather will turn cold?  Besides, if I ever come across the scene of an emergency, these could be essential life-saving tools. 

 

Mostly, I have to admit, my car is a mess because I move so quickly from task to task, and because I do so many things. Living on a gravel road doesn’t help, either. But perhaps my difficulties are made clear when I mention the dual task of cleaning the car and writing this column was spread across five or six hours because of other things I had to take care of in the meantime.

 

Since there are a lot of things about the way my days go that I do not want to change, I suppose the wisest course of action is to stop chastising myself for the mess, and simply express my gratitude to those folks who sometimes ride with me that they’re also willing to suspend judgment–at least to my face.

 

With the work accomplished, I have come to a zen relationship with the circumstances. My plans are that I’ll enjoy my cleaned-out car and my accepting friends, and see how long it takes for the storeroom to fill up again.